


If You Hurt Him, I Will End You <3

by winterover



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Pie, Relationship(s), Team Kirkhura, Trolling, it's rated g but there are some swears SRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterover/pseuds/winterover
Summary: When Kirk and Uhura find out Spock and McCoy are A Thing, they decide to offer some friendly and well-meant advice.





	

McCoy gets the message on his console in the middle of his medbay shift one day.

_Leonard. Dinner tonight, my quarters? Nyota_

Any man would be a fool to pass that invitation up. Uhura’s been known to sneak into the galley on occasion and commandeer one of the stoves, claiming homesickness, and her family recipes are quickly approaching legendary status among those who’ve been lucky enough to get a sample. The offer is a welcome one. Even _if_ it might be a little bit awkward on his end, hanging out with Spock's ex, he and Spock sleeping together as they are now, her not knowing yet...

Well. Whatever. It'll be fine. It's just Uhura; he actually gets along better with her than he does with Spock, most of the time. Maybe he could even broach the subject with her. Or maybe not. He’ll have to talk to Spock about it.

_Thanks for the invite. I’d love to._

_Perfect. I'll see you after shift, around 1900._

His stomach's already rumbling.

***

Spock, sitting at his accustomed station, feels the hearty clap on his shoulder coming from meters away, and turns in his chair to receive it with patient resignation. Jim is nothing if not obvious, much as he would prefer to believe the opposite, and his footsteps are loud as a full-grown sehlat's. Curious, though - he is capable of moving soundlessly when required, and has demonstrated this ability on multiple away missions.

"Hey, Spock. Why don’t you come over for 3D chess after shift? Feel like it’s been a while. I'll have some dinner delivered from the mess hall - I think they've got vegetable curry tonight. You like curry, right?"

"I do," Spock agrees, though somewhat hesitantly. He had been hoping to pass the evening with Leonard, perhaps a meal in his quarters, but it is true that he and Jim have not spent much social time together as of late. He may be feeling somewhat confused and neglected due to the other recent and inexplicable demands on Spock’s leisure hours. This will not do. "Very well."

"It'll be fun," says Jim, smiling with all his neat white teeth showing and turning to saunter back to his chair. Spock watches him go. For some reason, Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov exchange a glance, look anxiously back at Spock, then turn around to attend to their stations once more.

Spock is not entirely certain of the cause of the sudden feeling of nervous foreboding in his stomach.

***

"So," says Nyota casually, as Leonard savors his first bite of dinner. White fish in some kind of creamy, spicy coconut sauce. Not a combination Leonard would ordinarily have thought of, but it's actually delicious. "I hear you and Spock are involved."

He chokes.

"I have to say," she continues, as he gulps water to clear out his airway, "I did _not_ see that one coming. Especially considering the way you two argue."

"Uh," he rasps, eyes watering, "we were plannin’ on telling you. Soon. It’s just - it hasn’t been very long, and - uh."

***

"So you and Bones are fucking, huh."

A highly polished black pawn slips from Spock's fingers and knocks his king over. The king bounces off the first level before rolling to a stop on the tabletop, next to Jim's cup of coffee. Jim seems pleased by this.

"Conceding already, are you?"

"I am not," says Spock quickly, replacing the piece. "That was - unintentional."

"Right," says Jim, picking up his cup to take a long sip. He swishes the coffee around in his mouth a few moments, gaze focused levelly on Spock, before swallowing. Spock finds this unnerving, like being stared at by a desert cobra. "Unintentional like you two forgetting to tell your _best friend and commanding officer_ you were in a relationship?"

"We intended to tell you,” Spock insists. “Shortly. It is...a recent development."

Jim looks flatly skeptical. "It was probably Bones' idea to keep it under wraps, right? He's kind of sensitive about the whole relationship thing. After all -" he shrugs - "he hasn't been in a serious one since his ex-wife, and look what a clusterfuck that was..."

***

"The way _you_ argue with _him_ , really," Nyota continues conversationally, like Leonard had never interjected or coughed himself half to death. She takes a dainty bite of fish and rice before she goes on, and he sniffs, not entirely sure that some of that coconut sauce hadn't gone up his nose. "'Green-blooded hobgoblin,' 'pointy-eared bastard,' that sort of thing." He winces. When her gaze shifts back to him, it’s sharp and penetrating.

"You'll notice," says Leonard stiffly, rubbing his nose, "that I haven't said that in a while. And I was never serious about it before. I just...I say shit sometimes when I get riled up, just to get a rise out of people."

"Well, I'm glad you possess some self-awareness, Leonard." Nyota leans across the table toward him, and Leonard is suddenly very glad she doesn't have claws. For some reason. "Because you're going to have to be _very careful_ about what comes out of your mouth around Spock from now on."

***

"It was a mutual decision," Spock informs him, spearing a piece of carrot on his plate, though his appetite has gone entirely. Jim looks darkly at him.

"'Mutual.' That's a good start. You better keep all your decisions mutual, or Bones isn't gonna be a happy camper. He's been burned before, you know. People going behind his back, hiding things from him -"

"I," says Spock hotly, dropping his fork, "would not do such a thing, Jim."

"Oh, I hope not, Spock."

Jim is using his diplomatic voice - the pleasant yet displeased one, the one that politely promises dire consequences should he not get his way. Perhaps Spock does underestimate his subtlety from time to time.

"Here's a few tips for you. There are a lot of things you need to _not_ do when it comes to Bones. And a lot of things you _do_ need to do. 'Cause he might seem jaded and crusty on the outside, but inside he's as soft as a marshmallow, and I will not let anybody fuck him over again. Not with how long it took him to recover after the last time. I don't care if you're my first officer." His blue eyes blaze with deadly sincerity. "You put a foot wrong with Bones, and nobody will find your body."

Spock swallows. Jim moves a bishop up one level. "Check."

***

Leonard stares.

"Spock might seem stoic on the surface, but his feelings are delicate underneath. Comments like that can hurt him, but he'll never let himself show it. That's why you need to watch everything that comes out of your mouth. _Do not_ patronize him, _do not_ insult his species, _do not_ assume you know what he’s thinking or think he isn’t hurting. He's had to deal with enough over the past few years and so help me,  _you -_ " She jabs a well-manicured finger in his direction, and he shrinks back instinctively - "are not going to add 'bad breakup' to that list."

"Nyota!" he protests. "We _just_ got together. Why the hell are you -"

"Quiet," she snaps. He shuts up. "I'm not finished. Spock is one of my closest friends, and we were together for a long time, and I think I know what I'm talking about when it comes to him. You upset him - and I will know - and you will not like the consequences. That's a promise. Now eat your cauliflower. It’s good." She picks up her dinner knife, runs a thoughtful fingertip over its edge as if testing its sharpness...then scoops up a little pat of butter and starts spreading it onto a roll.

He eats his cauliflower. It tastes like saffron and terror.

***

At a table in the most secluded corner of the mess hall, Spock and McCoy are quietly conversing over slices of pie, their booted feet surreptitiously touching under the table. As yet unnoticed by the two blue-shirted lovebirds, Uhura tucks her arm into the crook of Kirk's elbow, and they give a simultaneous little sigh.

"They're sweet, aren't they?"

"Yeah," says Kirk wistfully. "It's bizarre, but...I think they're actually really good for each other." He looks down at her. "How'd it go last night?"

Uhura makes a face. "I think I might have gone a little overboard with the insinuations. I hope Spock forgives me for frightening Leonard's balls up into his body."

Kirk shudders, only half-kidding. He had, after all, been on the receiving end of Uhura's ire in the past, and remembers it well. "I just went for outright threats. Seemed to work surprisingly well, considering Spock's such a subtle guy. He looked pretty rattled."

"They'll forgive us. It's because we love them, after all."

"Yeah." They stand there together a moment longer before McCoy notices their presence and beckons them over. "There you go. I think they already have."

"Captain. Lieutenant."

"Jim. Uhura."

"Gentlemen." Uhura sits daintily down next to Spock, her dangling crescent-shaped silver earrings giving off a warning glint. Kirk takes a seat next to McCoy, the better to stare Spock down, and slings a companionable arm over the doctor’s shoulders. McCoy glares at this flagrant and customary violation of his personal space, but the glare has somewhat less vehemence than it usually does. And Spock...well, Spock’s a fast learner, and Kirk’s stare hasn’t gone unnoticed.

"Doctor, I believe pecan pie is a favorite traditional dish of your homeland," he says quickly, all but throwing his plate across the table to displace the empty one on McCoy’s tray. "Please accept the remainder of my dessert as a token of my esteem for you." Kirk nods his approval.

"Why, thank you, Spock, that's damn nice of you. Spock's gonna start teaching me to play the Vulcan lyre, you know," McCoy enthusiastically informs them. If his voice has a slightly manic edge to it, well, nobody comments. "Because I admire and respect his ancient culture."

"Indeed," says Spock. "He has expressed this sentiment to me on multiple occasions."

"Really." Uhura smiles brightly. "That’s great, Doctor. We’ll have to put on a concert sometime."

McCoy lets out a nervous laugh. "Uh, well. No guarantees I’ll ever be good enough for public consumption."

Uhura laughs. Kirk laughs. McCoy takes a bite of pecan pie. Spock smiles, faintly.

***

As soon as Jim and Nyota have exited the room, after five minutes of increasingly uncomfortable small talk (uncomfortable on Spock and McCoy’s part, that is; the other two had seemed unusually cheery), Spock snatches his plate back, hunching protectively over it like a cat with a fish carcass. "Yeah, go ahead," sighs McCoy, leaning back and patting his stomach. "I don't need the calories anyway. Gotta get to the gym more often."

"I haven’t perceived any recent changes in your physique," says Spock, his mouth full of pecans and butter pastry, "but it is important to adhere to Starfleet’s physical fitness standards." He swallows. "We could go together this evening."

"Sure. Not like there's gonna be any lyre lesson happening tonight." McCoy shakes his head. "Me playing a harp. Seriously."

"Having observed your previous attempts at learning to play a guitar," Spock says dryly, "I have no wish to subject myself to a similar auditory experience again." He cuts off another neat forkful of pie. McCoy’s eyebrow arches skyward.

"Hey, now. It wasn't _that_ bad."

"Were there cats aboard the Enterprise, they would have been shrieking in agony. In fact, I believe Lieutenant M'Ress was looking extremely unwell the next day."

"Oh, stuff it, Spock. Like those pointy ears've got any real appreciation for Earth music."

Spock's eyes narrow. "Upon further reflection, I believe you _have_ increased slightly in girth in recent months."

McCoy opens his mouth as if to say something, but closes it again, and Spock twitches an eyebrow himself before stuffing the forkful of pie into his mouth. Then McCoy moves to steal a pecan, and Spock catches his wrist for a second before allowing him to make off with the contraband, two fingers skimming down the length of McCoy's sticky ones before retreating to the safe haven of his own meal tray. McCoy smiles a sly smile, and pops the pecan into his mouth.

Under the table, their knees brush together.

***

Outside the mess hall, and to the great bemusement of passing crewpersons, Kirk and Uhura cackle themselves sick.

 


End file.
